


Matched Pair

by run run whithertits (whithertits)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s06e22 The Man Who Knew Too Much, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-07
Updated: 2011-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:24:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whithertits/pseuds/run%20run%20whithertits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment of comfort.  Set after the season 6 finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matched Pair

There was no time for greetings when Sam reappears, all three of them consumed with the reality of Cas's jump off the deep end. It wasn’t until after, when they returned to Bobby's, that things had a chance to sink in.

"You're saying you went on a spirit quest, boy?" Bobby asked, incredulous.

Sam shrugged, his broad shoulders looking out of place as he hunched down. "That's really as good a term as any," he said quietly. His eyes stayed on Dean, tracking him. It reminded Dean of the time leading up to his deal, after Broward County. Sam looked down, and rubbed his hands over his thighs. "I don't think I was supposed to wake up."

Dean leaned forward in his chair and waited until Sam looked up and met his eyes, then grinned. "Since when have we done the things we're supposed to do?" he asked.

Sam ducked his head again, but Dean could see his smile. "Yeah." Sam shook himself and stood; he turned toward the kitchen, and raised an eyebrow at Dean to follow.

"If you want to talk to your brother all you need to do is say so," Bobby muttered. He pulled his cap down low on his face and slouched in his seat. An exaggerated snore rattled through the room.

Dean rolled his eyes and followed Sam into the kitchen. Sam was standing by the table, his tight grip on the back of a chair turning his knuckles white. "Sam?" Dean asked, stepping forward to lay a hand on Sam's back.

Before he could make contact, Sam spun around and engulfed Dean in a tight hug, so close their knees bumped. Dean stiffened, arms pinned against his sides by Sam's grip. Slowly, he raised his hands to Sam’s back, his fingers clenched tight in Sam's shirt. He relaxed and hugged his brother.

"I wouldn’t have been able to do it if not for you," Sam said, voice rough with pain. "I could have stayed there. Part of me wanted to. But I couldn't do that to you.” His breath caught on an aborted sob. “I'm never going to let you be alone." He pressed his face into Dean's neck. The wet slide of Sam's face over Dean's skin pushed at all of the soft spots inside Dean, and he tightened his own grip on Sam.

"I thought you wouldn't wake up," Dean confessed, pressing his own face to Sam's shoulder so his voice was muffled. "Cas said he'd fix you, but," Dean paused, and gathered himself, but was interrupted before he could continue.

"I'm glad he didn't," Sam said. He pulled back from Dean and his face was clouded, anger mixing with something harder to define. "I don't want to owe him for anything else." Sam sucked in a deep breath, and leaned forward and slid his lips over Dean's in a brief kiss and then drew back, the harshness of before replaced with a desperate longing Dean had almost (never) forgotten.

Dean couldn't look away. "You wanna go back down that path, Sam?" he asked, careful to keep his voice bland.

A look of uncertainty crossed Sam's face, then faded into one of determination. "I'm not sure we-- I-- ever left it." He bent forward and pressed his lips to Dean's again. Dean opened to it and deepened the kiss, his hands sliding down to grip Sam's waist as Sam ran his hands up Dean's neck to cradle the back of his head. Dean thrust his tongue out and ran along the edge of Sam's mouth and then inside, and shuddered when Sam’s tongue was there to meet him.

Sam stepped forward so his thigh rubbed against Dean’s hardening cock. Dean moaned into Sam’s mouth and ground down against the pressure, and then rocked up, the seam of his jeans rubbing into Sam’s. He was most of the way to hard in his jeans and—Bobby was in the other room. Dean tore his lips from Sam's and stepped back.

Sam let him have the space, but moved his hands down to grip Dean's elbows to stop him from going too far. Dean didn't want distance; Sam had been too far-removed from Dean for years, the place tucked in close to Dean's heart hollow and greedy for Sam.

"We're in this together," Sam said, voice too-serious for such an obvious statement.

 _I love you_ , Dean thought. "Always," he said.

Sam smiled, his hazel eyes bright with happiness, haunted with Hell.

They were a matched pair, for better or worse.


End file.
